The Dark Lord of Naboo
by psychoman222
Summary: When his last breath left him on the Death Star, Anakin Skywalker had one wish-to be with his family. His mother, Padmé, Luke and his sister, whom he had never met, but wished to… Of course, he accepted that that wish would not be answered. So, when he woke up in his nine-year old body, he was surprised, to say the least. AU/Time Travel.
1. Chapter 1

Anakin wheezed as Luke took off the mask he had worn for the past twenty or so years. The lack of oxygen blurred his vision, but he was still grateful to finally see his son with his own eyes. It was unfortunate he was dying, as he never wanted to look away.

"I...wish...that we could finally be together, Luke. I wish… that you never knew me as Darth Vader. I wish that you could have met your mother...and grandmother. I'm sorry...that my foolishness has brought you nothing but pain, my son…"

"Don't talk like that. You're going to make it!" Luke protested.

"I think we both know how untrue that is. Now go. Don't look back. The galaxy is better off without Darth Vader. Save yourself."

Luke looked as if he was about to argue, but he instead nodded, and fled the detonating Death Star.

As he closed his eyes, for what he knew was the final time, he could hear his mother calling him, to join her…

"Anakin! Anakin!"

"Ani sweetie, it's time to get up."

His eyes shot open, and he looked upon a face he had not seen in several decades.

"Mom? You are…" The rest of his sentence died in his throat. Was this… the afterlife?

As he looked around, and saw their old hovel on Tatooine, he was thoroughly confused. It was _not_ his first choice for his eternal resting place. Why would his afterlife be a place he hated?

Other than being due to all of the negative karma he accrued during his time as a Sith.

"Watto wants you at his shop as soon as possible, Ani."

That confirms it. This is his personal Hell. Made worse by the fact he dragged his poor mother into it.

Anakin nodded, and then headed towards the door. Might as well get it over with.

"Anakin, aren't you going to eat first?"

He looked back at his mother in confusion. He hadn't eaten in twenty years, unless injecting formula into a tube going to his stomach counted as eating.

Shmi sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Just because Watto said he wanted you at the shop soon, doesn't mean you can't eat first. At _least_ take a pallie with you."

He wordlessly walked over to the table and picked up one of the round fruits from the bowl in the center.

When he moved to put it in a pocket, he discovered two things- one, he was wearing something _with_ pockets, and not his black armor, and two, he was about half the size he was used to being. Of course, most would have realized that _very_ quickly, but in his defence, he was distracted by, you know, _being in Hell._

He just filed it away under 'yet another punishment' and continued to head to Watto's shop.

Once there, he went through the standard routine from so long ago, clean out grime, repair the parts that were too damaged to sell, steal the ones that wouldn't be missed for his own use, perform maintenance on the droids… until Watto yelled at him, asking him to mind the shop.

He entered the main area of the shop, only to find a face that he would not, and _could not_, forget.

Padmé.

He was so surprised by this turn, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Wait, if _you _are here, I _can't _ be in Hell! You are too... _perfect_!"

Well, it had taken him a lifetime, but he had finally found a pickup line _worse_ than 'Are you an Angel?'. Although, 'I don't like sand' was a good attempt, in hindsight.

Padmé stared at him blankly.

"_What?_" she asked, confused.


	2. Chapter 2

Anakin quickly attempted to recover, even as he tried to process this new information. Was he _truly_ given a second chance?

"Forgive me, I feel… disoriented today, and as such I may say things with little to no meaning. What brings you to such a place, milady?" Anakin asked, not realizing that not only was he not using speech a nine-year old slave would use, but he called her _milady_, a phrase he used in jest as a term of affection for her… when they were in a relationship.

"Oh, we need parts for a Nubian J-type 327."

"A diplomatic ship?"

"How did you know that?"

"I am both a mechanic and pilot. If there is anything I know, it is starships."

"How did someone as young as you wind up working in a place like this?"

"Gardulla the Hutt lost my mother and I gambling."

"You're slaves?"

"Yes. Though I hope to change that, of course."

Anakin spent the rest of the time chatting with his love, until Qui-Gon returned from negotiating with Watto, causing them to say their goodbyes. Thankfully, Watto dismissed him as well, so he immediately began looking for her once again.

He caught up with them, just in time to catch their Gungan companion eyeing a hanging gorg, a amphibian that was often sold as food. Anakin lunged as soon as the Gungan extended his tongue towards it, grabbing the appendage mid-flight. Anakin used it to pull the Gungan down to eye level.

"You know, Watto just told me that you don't have any of the local currency. Did that mean that you were intending on committing _theft_ in broad daylight? There are those who take offense to such things. Most notably, the Hutts, who would do _far_ worse than _grab_ your tongue if they caught you stealing from someone who pays their protection fees." Anakin lectured, glaring into the amphibian's eyes.

"Thank you for that warning, young one. Now, if you would be so kind as to release him?" Qui-Gon intervened.

"As you wish." Anakin stated, then released the tongue, which snapped back into the Gungan's struggling head.

"A Jedi would consider themselves fortunate to be blessed with the reflexes you have." Qui-Gon continued.

"Jedi do not have a monopoly on quickness, sir."

"Of course not." Qui-Gon agreed.

"I suppose if you are that desperate for a meal, I suppose I could get you a few pallies. Follow me." Anakin sighed, as he reached into a pocket and withdrew one of the aforementioned fruits and tossing it to the Gungan.

It took no time at all to find a stall, manned by an old woman, who sold more of them. After completing the purchase she said "Ani, my bones are achin'. There's a storm coming. You'd best get home quick."

"I see. My thanks." He replied.

"Is your ship far?" Anakin asked, turning to Qui-Gon.

"It is on the outskirts."

"That is too far. Come with me."

By the time they made it to the dwelling, the sandstorm picked up to the point they needed to shield their faces with their arms.

"Mother, I'm home. And I have brought guests. I apologize for the lack of warning."

"It's no trouble. And who are your friends?"

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn. Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter from the storm."

While the two 'adults' were talking, Anakin sidled to Padmè, and opened with "I am currently building a droid, if you would like to see it."

"I would, thank you, Anakin."

"It is a protocol droid, named C-3PO, unfortunately, it lacks plating." Anakin says, reactivating the droid, making sure to plug in the missing optical sensor.

"I am also in the process of constructing a podracer."

"I'm impressed. Say, have you ever considered...leaving?"

"Of course. But it is not so simple. Each slave has a tracking device, that doubles as an explosive. If they go off the grid… they don't live long enough to regret it."

"That's horrible! How does this even _happen?_ The Republic Anti-slavery laws…"

Anakin snorts in derision.

"Tatooine has even less use for the Republic's laws than it does its currency. Laws do nothing if you are too weak to enforce them."

Padmè was silent at that.

"Anakin! Dinner!" Shmi called.

Dinner began as a quiet affair, until Shmi asked her guests what their business on Tatooine was.

Qui-Gon was quick to explain that they were on a mission to Coruscant when their ship was damaged.

"I'm afraid we're stranded here unless we can get those parts." Qui-Gon finished explaining.

"I can get them for you, if you enter my podracer in the next race." Anakin offered.

"Anakin! No! I die every time I see you in one of those races!"

"Mother, piloting is an activity I enjoy, and if it helps them in the process, then there is no reason to not try. Have faith in my skill."

"Pod racing is incredibly difficult. It would take a Jedi's reflexes to do so."

"As you carry a Lightsaber, I suppose you would know."

"A lightsaber? Mister Jinn, are you a Jedi?" Shmi asked.

"A lightsaber isn't proof that the carrier is a Jedi. I could have killed one and taken it."

Anakin scoffed.

"Easier said than done."

"You speak as if you have experience in the matter, my young friend."

"A child such as I? Kill a Jedi? Don't be ridiculous."

"Yes, I suppose it would be. As ridiculous as, let's say, time travel." Qui-Gon looked at Anakin, pointedly.

"That _is_ remarkably absurd."

"Yes, I thought so too."

After dinner, Anakin stood on the balcony, overlooking Mos Espa.

"I am surprised to see that Obi-Wan and I are not the only ones going through this...ordeal." Qui-Gon said, conversationally, as he joined Anakin on the balcony.

"Obi-Wan is in the same situation? If he is, what could possibly be the pattern for this...event? It is strange enough that you and I are afflicted."

"I have a theory about that, actually. I believe it was due to the fact that we became one with the Force."

"I would think I would recall having done that."

"Actually, It was a rather...smooth transition, surprisingly. I would _not_ be surprised if you didn't notice at first. So, I assume you want to bring the end of the Sith?"

"I want to protect those I care for. Luke, Padme, my mother… And if doing so involves the murder of the man who took them from me in the first place, I will lose no sleep."

"I see." Qui-Gon withdrew a comlink , and spoke into it. "Obi-Wan, would you find a quiet place to talk? We need to have a private discussion."

"_I am able to speak freely, Master Jinn."_

"Anakin's with us."

"_...That is...good. Astonishing, but good."_

"So, what is our plan? Other than having Anakin rejoin the Jedi, of course."

"I. Will. Not." Anakin said, firmly.

Qui-Gon looked at him, puzzled.

"First of all, I have _always_ chafed under the rules of the Jedi. It was what ultimately led to my fall. Two decades as a Sith Lord have _not_ helped that. Second of all, I have single handedly butchered _at least_ half of the people there. If the first reason was not enough to ensure my descent back into the dark, the guilt _would_. My son did _not_ go through all that he did to help me escape the clutches of the Sith, just for me to go back into it the second his back was turned."

"You have a point. I apologise."

"As for my plans… well, there are four things I am good at. Engineering, Commanding, Swordsmanship, and Piloting. Whatever I will do, it will have to utilize those skill sets in order to work." Anakin pondered.

"_Could we usurp control of the Clones? Or make our own?"_ Obi-Wan speculated.

"No. If the Emperor so much as _suspects_ things are not going to plan, he will instill countless failsafes and contingencies, if not come up with another plan entirely. If he does so, we lose our strongest advantage-foresight. Besides, commissioning an army of our own would take resources we couldn't even _fathom_, much less muster without anyone's knowledge."

"On that scale? Possibly. What about a smaller scale?" Qui-Gon asked.

"We need recruits that are loyal to the cause, willing to wait long periods of time without action without letting their skills degrade, and able to keep their mouth shut. So, mercenaries are out. Planetary militias are too lax, and far too noticeable. I will see if I can earn the loyalty of the Noghri once more, but my success is not guaranteed, and even if I can manage it, They will not be enough on their own." Anakin replied.

"_What about droids?_" Obi-Wan brainstormed.

"Ones capable of replacing the Clone army? Droids like that do not-"

A thought struck.

"We will need mineral rights to Gromas 16. It has a metal known as phrikite. We will need it."

"_You have an idea?_"

"Yes. Dark Troopers."


	3. Chapter 3

"_Dark Troopers? I'm afraid I've never heard of them."_ Obi-Wan stated.

"It was after your time. Actually, to be precise, Phase Zero was started shortly after the Clone Wars, but it was shut down and only re-activated after the destruction of the Death Star. It was the pet project of General Rom Mohc. Phase Zero used cybernetics to extend the life of otherwise...'expired' Clone troopers, using similar technology to what bound me to my own suit. Phase one through three were purely mechanical, but were intended to completely replace stormtroopers, at least until a rebel mercenary sabotaged the main production facility, after which the Emperor cut funding." Anakin explained.

"What do you mean by...'expired'?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Too degraded by their accelerated aging to fight properly, too indoctrinated to do anything else." Anakin replied.

"_If the project won't be started for at least thirty years, how will that help us now?"_ Obi-Wan inquired.

"The Dark Trooper project had my personal attention, and I even had a few as part of my retinue for a time. Do you seriously think that I _did not_ memorize their schematics?" Anakin chided.

"_I see. In the meantime, what should Qui-Gon and I be doing?"_ Obi-Wan asked.

"Getting me those mineral rights, and possibly providing me with spare parts. Anything other than that is for _you_ to decide. "

"I doubt they have parts for a prototype supersoldier project that won't exist for thirty years just lying around."

"Not for the Dark Troopers. I was thinking more along the lines of probe droids. While we have a very accurate picture of how the next few decades will unfold, it is a very _broad _picture. We will need reconnaissance to acquire more detailed information."

"A fine idea. We should adjourn for now, and each of us should think on the situation further."

"Very well. I need to ensure that my podracer is in… adequate condition. I seem to recall it catching fire last time."

"You _should_ be getting rest."

"I think myself capable of self-reliance. It would not be the first time I have worked late, nor will it be the last."

"As you wish."

Qui-Gon and Padmé awoke the next morning to the sound of a podracer engine flaring. They ventured outside to see Anakin sitting in the cockpit, absorbed in reading the gauges.

"Is everything in order?" Qui-Gon asked.

"To be honest, I would much rather give the pod a complete overhaul. There are many improvements that can be made, but I lack the time. However, it is...serviceable."

As Shmi joined them, Padmé asked her "Is he normally this… formal? I don't think I've heard him using a single contraction in the time I've known him."

"Actually, no. He's only been like this since yesterday. He's also been a lot more…"

"Commanding?"

"Yes. He also hasn't been eating. It's...worrying."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. He's probably just trying to impress Master Jinn. The Jedi are heroes to many people."

"If he were trying to impress anyone, it would be you, Padmé." Qui-Gon interjected.

"Why is that?" Padmé asked.

"_If this planet is Hell, you cannot be here! You are too perfect!"_ Qui-Gon recited. And calmly reached out to catch a thrown hydrospanner that was on an intercept course with his head.

"He said that?" Shmi asked, stifling a grin.

"Close enough."

"So, he's acting mature and tough in order to impress his crush? How sweet."

"That would be my guess." Qui-Gon replied.

All the while, Anakin mentally chanted '_Do not murder the Jedi, you owe it to your son. Do not murder the Jedi, you owe it to your son. Do not murder the Jedi, you owe it to your son.'_

The Boonta Eve podrace arrived shortly, and it went without a hitch, although Anakin nearly lost his temper and was just about to Force Choke Sebulba when he caught the Dug trying to sabotage his pod. Thankfully, Qui-Gon talked him out of it.

However, after the race, Anakin _did_ make himself scarce, and coincidentally, Sebulba was nowhere to be seen…

When Anakin returned, he was sporting a satisfied grin. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say, that I think the Dug has learned the error of his ways." Anakin replied to the unspoken question.

"What did you do?" Qui-Gon sighed.

"Well, you know the Force can be used to give others visions, correct?"

"I did not, actually, but go on."

"Well, I did not want to waste time coming up with something original, so I just went with the standard 'Everyone that has died due to your actions takes turns dismembering you' vision."

Qui-Gon looked at him in horror.

"He does not deserve your sympathy. He has conclusively proven he is willing to murder a youngling for personal gain."

Qui-Gon pointedly looked at the diminutive Sith Lord.

"One, that was not… _directly..._ for personal gain, and two, I_ wish_ someone had put an end to my madness, no matter _what_ methods they may have used to do so."

Qui-Gon massaged his temples, muttering "And _this_ is the prophesied savior of the galaxy."

Anakin shrugged, and replied, "I lost faith that the Force knew what it was doing _long_ ago."


	4. Chapter 4

Review Reply: Thugs of Wars: Physically, Anakin's nine. Due to time travel, he's mentally Forty-six. He speaks like an adult because that's what's natural to him, and the people who know he's time travelling treat him like one. However, they need to _pretend_ he's a nine year old in public in order to throw off suspicion. Anakin just is _very bad_ at pretending. When Qui-Gon started mocking him for his crush on Padmé, that was to cover for Anakin's constant slip-ups, as Padmé and Shmi were getting suspicious.

* * *

"I assume your first order of business is to free your mother?" Qui-Gon asked.

"My first instinct is to say yes, but… I met her future husband. While our time was...brief, he seemed to genuinely respect and care for her. I do not wish to interfere with her happiness, and that, unfortunately, means I must not interfere at all. After all, I do not know what events led to their meeting. However, that does not mean that I will not monitor her to ensure her safety."

"I see. And Padmé?"

"...I do not know. What I do know, is that I will assist in the Battle of Naboo to the best of my capabilities."

"I assumed as much. The question is, how will we hide your existence from the Council? I doubt they will understand 'Oh, the boy is a Sith Lord from the future, who all but single-handedly wiped out the Order regardless of whether they were man,woman, or child, but he is not a threat, honestly.'"

"Simple. The delay was due to the ship being damaged, and you needed to acquire parts. You purchased them honestly, and went on your way."

"They will see that my credchip still has the full balance."

"Remember how I said I need droid parts?"

Qui-Gon looked at Anakin, incredulously.

"Let me get this straight, you want _me_ to pay _you_ so that _I_ can lie to _my_ superiors to protect _you_."

"Yes." Anakin said, as if it were obvious.

Qui-Gon sighed, and handed over the credchip.

* * *

Anakin was nervous. It was not a sensation he was accustomed to, as he held the supreme confidence of a Sith Lord for the last few decades of his life. But how else were you supposed to feel when you were telling your own mother 'hey, it sucks you're still a slave, but see you later, bye!'? But, the alternative was to leave without saying a word, and that would be even more cruel.

"I...I am sorry, Mom, but we weren't able to get you freed as well. I promise that I will…"

"Shh, Ani. It's okay. I'll be fine. Go."

"I...will hold you to that. I promise I will make sure nothing will happen to you." Anakin replied, and gave his first instigated hug in over twenty years, and even allowed a few tears to fall.

"C-3PO, ensure my mother's well being _at ALL cost._ Am I clear?" He said, turning to the droid.

"But of course, Master Anakin."

"Good."

As Anakin left with the others, he saw Qui-Gon suppressing a grin.

"If you utter a _single word,_ Jinn, I assure you that I will asphyxiate you half to death, then lower you feet-first into a Mustafaran river."

"I merely thought it was nice to see you _without_ all of the posturing."

"Did you know molten ore is hot enough to ignite you _before_ you make contact? It is quite painful, I assure you."

"I will take your word for it."

Padmé reached down and laid a hand on Anakin's shoulder.

"You don't need to be so defensive. We're your friends, and we understand this is a difficult time for you." She said.

Anakin felt his inner turmoil dissipate at her touch.

"Thank you, Padmé. I...apologize. My loved ones have always been my weakness."

"They can also be a strength."She replied.

"Of course. I did not intend to imply otherwise."

It was a short trek to the waiting craft, where they were ambushed by a lightsaber wielding Zabrak, known as Darth Maul. Qui-Gon held him off until the rest of the group made it to the departing ship, only for something _very_ peculiar to happen.

Darth Maul's head suddenly twisted 180 degrees, and he collapsed into the sand, unmoving.

Obi-Wan gave a stern look to the newly-boarded Anakin.

"You're supposed to be getting _better_ about that."

"I am. I made sure he was a clear and present danger before I followed through with that course of action. On to other matters, I claim first rights to his lightsaber, as well as any credchips he may have."

"We are _not_ stopping to loot his body."

"Waste is the enemy, Obi-Wan."

"No, sociopathic Sith Lords are the enemy."

"Which we cannot defeat if we do not utilise all of the resources we can muster."

"We are _not_ stopping. That is final."

"Oh, so we are stranding Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan groaned, then turned to the pilot.

"Set her down."

As the ship set down, Anakin rushed out to search Darth Maul.

Upon seeing what the deceased Sith Apprentice was carrying, Anakin grinned.

As the Naboo ship lifted off again, Padmé turned to Qui-Gon.

"Where's Ani?"

He looked at her, puzzled.

"He isn't on board?"

"Incoming bogey, coming in fast!" The pilot called out.

"Oh, what _now_!?" Obi-Wan cried.

"_Naboo Ship, this is your escort. Please transmit hyperspace coordinates." _Anakin's voice came from the communication system.

"Anakin, what is going on?" Obi-Wan demanded.

"_The one who attacked us was in possession of a hyperspace-capable interceptor. It was too fine a vessel to leave to rot in the Dune Sea."_

Obi-Wan sighed.

"Warn us next time."

"...Should I be worried that a nine year old is piloting an armed vessel...alone?" The Naboo pilot inquired.

"_I would hold my condescending tongue if I were in your situation. The only reason _your_ ship is not mere decoration for the desert is due to _my_ skills as a pilot. Do not forget that."_

"It was a fair question, Anakin. Besides, I think he was doubting your maturity, rather than your skill." Obi-Wan sniped.

"_...I have been capable of lock-on for the past three minutes and none of you ungrateful churls are interstellar vapor. That should be proof enough of my ability to contain myself."_

"He's joking." Obi-Wan explained to the now _very_ nervous pilot.

"_Believe that if you wish. The coordinates, if you will."_

As soon as they were sent, The Naboo royal starship and the Sith Interceptor were on their way to Coruscant.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN**: I honestly didn't think 'Waste is the enemy' was an actual quote, until the reviews came in. I thought that if it was, it would be a military one, not an anime/video game one. Guess I was wrong. Also, someone requested more Anakin looting action. Request granted. Also, writing Yoda is hard.

* * *

While Anakin kept to his word, and escorted to the Naboo ship to Coruscant, he made it a point to be far away from their landing zone as possible. He didn't think he could resist the temptation to attack Sidious, and he had neither the physical capability to pull off an assassination, nor the ability to get away with it. Instead, he landed near a shop very similar to Watto's, and purchased ten ASP-7 series labor droids, An R-1 and R-4 unit, and a J9 worker drone, using Qui-Gon's credchip. He was about to leave when a Model-88 Administrative droid caught his eye. It took most of the money he looted from Maul to purchase it, but he considered it money well spent. Once he loaded them aboard his purloined ship, he took off towards the abandoned Coruscant Industrial Zone.

On the opposite side of the planet, two Jedi were finishing their debriefing.

"-and so, Masters, we made the repairs to the ship, and made our way back here." Gui-Gon recited.

"And nothing else to report, have you?" Master Yoda inquired pointedly.

"Obi-Wan, did I mention the man with a lightsaber?"

"The one you slew? Yes, Master, you did."

"Then no."

"Speak with you in private, may I?" Yoda asked.

"Of course, Master Yoda."

Once they exited the Council chambers, Yoda spoke.

"Omit something from your report, you wouldn't. Would you? A boy, perhaps?"

Obi-Wan smacked his forehead.

"You came back, too."

"Oh, so aware of this predicament, you are. So, protect Vader, why would you?"

"He has agreed to aid us in destroying Sidious."

"And trust him, you do? After wipe out our order, he did?"

"I believe Luke was successful. He may not be entirely Anakin anymore, but neither is he entirely Vader. He has more reason than anyone to want Sidious gone." Obi-Wan replied.

"Believe that, I will. Also will I believe that take the mantle of Emperor for himself, he will."

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon shared a look. Sadly, neither could rule that out.

"And where is Skywalker?"

"Purchasing, repairing and constructing a few droids. Nothing that could get him into trouble." Obi-Wan said.

Meanwhile, in the Industrial district…

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINA-" the feral BX-series droid exclaimed, before it was beheaded by a swing of a crimson lightsaber.

Yoda and Qui-Gon just stared at Obi-Wan.

"...That sounded less absurd before I said it."

As Anakin sat upon a mound of destroyed droids, He addressed his new purchases.

"Where we stand, is a factory where droids once were made by the thousands. Then Coruscant discovered outsourcing, and it has been left to rot ever since. What I hope to accomplish is to restore it to it's former glory. As you can see, it is in a state of disrepair. That is where you come in."

"Excuse me Master, but that will take some time with just us, and I am not a labor model." the Model-88, designated M88-AD, spoke up.

"That is fine. I will, of course, be sending aid as soon as resources allow, but I wish for _some _progress to be made. That being said, the sooner we begin, the better. Actually, I wish to speak with you in private, M88-AD."

Anakin was mentally berating him for forgetting one crucial piece of information, but it was good that he had remembered.

"Of course, what is it Ma-" M88-AD acknowledged, before Anakin shut it down.

The problem was, the Banking Clans were the original designers of the Model-88, and they often used them as spies and sleeper agents. It took Anakin a half-hour to find the code and eliminate it. Once he deemed it 'clean', he reactivated the droid.

"I needed to eliminate some malignant software from you. It is gone now, and you are free to continue in your duties." Anakin offered as an explanation.

"Malignant software? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh my. I apologize for the inconvenience, Master."

"It troubled me very little. As for your feral cousins, they will need a _lot_ of work…" Anakin said, bracing himself for another all-nighter.

Forty-two hours. That was how long it took to fix the problem in the software of the feral droids. It took another five to apply the fix to the six-dozen feral droids he managed to disable. He wound up having to order the R-1 unit to fix the physical damage, while he retreated to Padmé's suite, where he crashed on the couch.

Only to be shook awake a few scant hours later.

"If we are anything but under attack, your respiration privileges are about to be revoked." Anakin muttered, burying his head further into the cushion.

"I don't want to hear it, kid. Do you have any idea how much the Queen was worried abou-" Captain Panaka began lecturing, before his air supply was cut off by an unseen force.

"Do you think I was joking?"

_Let him go, He is just doing his job. Besides, killing him would upset Padm_é. Anakin's better judgement commanded.

"I believe I have made my point. Now, leave me be." Anakin said as he released him.

Sure enough, Panaka left him alone.

Padmé was another story.

"Your Majesty, I don't think that's a good idea!" Panaka advised.

After all, she was not present for the previous...altercation, she didn't know what the little monster was capable of.

"I disagree. Ani, could you get up for me, please?"

"...Is it important?"

"To me, it is."

"...Okay."

Anakin sluggishly arose, blearily looking at the young queen.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Could you tell me where you were? I was worried about you."

"Industrial district. Abandoned factories are there. No transients, gangs or criminals due to the homicidal droids. Spent the past two days fixing the software problem causing the droids to become homicidal. Hoping to use the reformed droids to repair the factories, so we can use them to create battle droids to combat the ones occupying Naboo." Anakin replied sleepily, laying back down, resting his head on the now sitting queen's lap.

"...Did you say 'homicidal droids'?" Padmé asked, alarmed.

"Do not worry. They were not even combat models. They were easy to deal with."

"...Don't scare me like that again, okay?" Padmé beseeched, giving up on processing his previous statement.

After all, how could something dangerous enough to scare off hardened criminals be 'easy' for a nine year old to deal with?

"...I cannot promise you that. I will not lie to you."

Padmé was about to respond, when the doorbell chimed.

Panaka opened it to reveal Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

"Here to take your pint-sized strangler back, are you?" Panaka said venomously, as he was understandably upset about the earlier incident.

The two Jedi looked at him in shock.

"Oh Force, who did he kill?" Obi-Wan sighed in resignation.

Panaka was more than a little unsettled, as he saw that they were completely serious.


	6. Chapter 6

The two Jedi gave a sigh of relief when they discovered that there _wasn't _a dead body in the penthouse.

"Pardon the intrusion, your Majesty, but we wish to inform you that the Jedi Council wishes for us to accompany you back to Naboo, and assist as necessary." Qui-Gon informed her.

"Thank you, Master Jedi. I actually would like to seek your advice on a certain...situation."

"I would be happy to provide assistance."

"It concerns Anakin."

"...Is there something in particular you wish to know?"

"Several things. First of all, Is he a Jedi? Captain Panaka insists he has...powers."

"He is not a Jedi. He is, however, powerful in the Force."

"So he will be going to the Order?"

"No. He both highly values emotional bonds, and you have seen his temper. He would not take to the Jedi teachings well. We are making inquiries to people who are ..._knowledgeable_ about such things, but do not adhere to the code. We would need Anakin's consent, of course." He said, nodding towards the dozing nine-year old, who was still using the Queen of Naboo as a pillow.

"I see. And they would take care of him?"

"The man I have in mind at one point personally tutored me. I have no doubts as to his competence around younglings."

"And did you know of his plans to wander into a dangerous place in order to restart a droid foundry?" Padmé asked, coldly.

"...I did not, actually. But knowing him, I would say that the 'dangers' were in more peril than he was."

Padmé glared at him.

"Anakin… is very adept at looking after himself. You needn't worry about him." Qui-Gon clarified.

"He is a _youngling_, Master Jedi." Padmé responded, harshly.

"An incredibly competent one." Qui-Gon stated.

"Who is capable of _strangling people_ _with his mind_._, _for_ no other reason _than he's not a morning person_._" Captain Panaka added.

Padmé turned her glare on the head of her security force, who wisely stopped talking.

"Child endangerment aside, what is our plan for taking back Naboo, considering we will not be receiving aid from the Senate for the time being." Padmé asked.

"Child endangerment." Anakin responded, without opening his eyes.

Padmé ignored the sleeping youngling's ramblings.

"So, what's the plan?" She asked again.

"I told you, Child endangerment." Anakin replied.

"...You're going to have to explain that, Ani."

"Simple. The Zabrak who attacked us was in league with the Trade Federation. As such, he would have to have met with them at some point. Thus, his ship probably has clearance to the _Lucrehulk_-class ships blockading Naboo, which are more than likely housing a dedicated computer devoted to controlling the battle droids. I use his credentials to get them to let me inside their shields, I fire off a few cannon blasts, and Naboo is free."

"That's...actually not a bad plan." Panaka admitted.

"Apart for the fact that we don't have to make a _child_ pilot the ship." Padmé argued.

"The controls are optimised for a force sensitive, Obi-Wan is afraid of flying, and I have the keys." Anakin disagreed.

"...There's no reason we can't ask Master Jinn to do so."

"Other than the fact that there's a _reason_ I hate flying." Obi-Wan retorted.

"I am not _that_ bad…" Qui-Gon sulked.

"He is. He really is. Besides, we were tasked with your protection. We cannot do that from an interceptor." Obi-Wan stated.

"You can. It is a little concept called 'close air support'." Anakin supplied.

"You would be the only person in the _galaxy_ crazy enough to attempt being _that_ close in a ship _that_ fast. Which is reason _two_ I hate flying." Obi-Wan retorted.

"Do not worry about me, Padmé. If there is anything I know how to do, it is pilot. And look at it this way- the safest place to be in a battle is with thick durasteel, shielding, a cloaking device, and solar ionization cannons between you and the enemy." Anakin tried to reassure her.

"...I want it stated for the record that I am _not _comfortable with this." She finally conceded.

"We know." Anakin acknowledged.

"Now that that's settled, and as you're apparently awake, may we discuss your...arrangements, Anakin? In private?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Might as well."

Adjourning to an adjacent room, Qui-Gon begun explaining his plan.

"There is someone who has the resources you need, and is just as concerned with the safety of the galaxy, who can further your studies of the Force without trying to make you adhere to the code. We are currently trying to convince him to take you in. He is not one of us, so you will need to either convert him, spy on him,or, if those are impossible, assassinate him. However, you are not going to like it. "

"Assassinate? And just _who_ would warrant a death sentence from the ever-merciful Jedi?"

"He is a Jedi Master, long discontent with the way the Order is going, and is only a thread away from leaving the Jedi. You know him as Count Dooku."


	7. Chapter 7

"...Is there any information you could provide on him?" Anakin asked.

"He does not take the Dark Side seriously, and does not think the Republic is an...adequate government, but he is extremely devoted to the safety of the Galaxy." Qui-Gon answered.

"I think I can work with that."

"Very well. We head out to Naboo tomorrow. Get some rest."

"Of course."

* * *

When they arrived at Naboo, their plan went without a hitch, allowing Anakin to destroy the Droid Control ship without incident.

Anakin did, however, reprogram one of the now defunct battle droids, doing his best to make it look as if it was done by a disgruntled Neimoidian technician.

As such, he had a perfect alibi standing by Padmé when said droid opened fire on the newly appointed Chancellor, Palpatine.

It missed. The return fire did not.

"Damn it! Worthless piece of scrap!" He snarled.

"What?" Padmé asked.

"...It just opened fire on the Chancellor. Is there no low to which the Trade Federation will not stoop?" He lied.

Why did the Trade Federation even _buy_ those things if their targeting programs were so awful? Oh, right. They were cheap. And they subscribed to the philosophy of 'If not precision, saturation.'

"Well, now I can't say this trip was boring. Am I to take it this is the valiant young man who ended the siege?" Chancellor Palpatine asked, smiling at Anakin.

"You _told him?"_ Anakin hissed to Padmé. They all agreed that his involvement would not be made public knowledge.

"No need to be shy, young one. It was a great thing you did, and I am currently petitioning to have you awarded with a Medal of Courage."

"How generous, Chancellor." Anakin replied.

"Think nothing of it, my boy. I assure you that the Trade Federation will be punished for this unconscionable act, your Majesty."

"Thank you, Chancellor."

The rest of the Ceremony was completely uneventful.

* * *

After the Ceremony, Padmé invited Anakin to her chambers.

"Anakin, I would like to apologize for earlier. I should not have informed him without your consent."

"I cannot stay angry with you, Padmé. We will see if this has...repercussions, but for now, let us put it behind us."

She smiled.

"Thank you. Now, how are your living arrangements going?"

"I have yet to meet with the man in question, and until then, no final decision will be made. He should be arriving on Naboo within the week, however."

Anakin was impressed with Qui-Gon's initiative. Not only did he convince Dooku to quit the Order, though this time was more amicable than in their original timeline, he also convinced the aristocratic ex-Jedi Master to fly all the way to Naboo to meet with him.

"That's good. Actually, could you sign these forms? It should help the process." Padmé claimed, though Anakin could tell she was not being entirely honest with him.

He looked over the papers.

"These are citizenship papers for Naboo." He realized.

"It is my way of reassuring you that no matter what, you will always have a home here. That...helps, right? So you don't feel as if you have nowhere to go if you refuse?"

Anakin chuckled.

"You are too terrible a liar to be in politics, Padmé. You need to be able to tell me that _without_ making it a question."

"A...are you making fun of me?" Padmé asked, incredulously.

"Who, me? I would not be so bold as to mock a Queen." Anakin replied, grinning. This was reminding him of when they were first… courting.

"You are!" Padmé realized, sharing his grin.

He chuckled, and said softly, "I love you, Padmé."

Padmé went silent.

It took Anakin several seconds to realize what he had just said.

"I'll just… go sign these papers. Thank you for the opportunity, your Majesty." Anakin said, as he all but fled the room.

'_How could I be so _STUPID!?' Anakin mentally screamed.

He boarded his Sith Interceptor, and took off, putting in the coordinates to Hypori, a Separatist world that housed a droid foundry, which should be in operation at this point in time. He needed to destroy something.

* * *

"Mom! Dad! I'm so glad to see that you're safe!" Padmé greeted, embracing her parents, who had just recently been freed from a Trade Federation prison camp.

"We're fine, honey. How are you holding up? We didn't expect anything like _this_ when we asked if you wanted to run for Queen." Jobal, Padmé's mother, inquired.

"I'm fine, in large part due to Anakin."

"Who is this Anakin, and should I be worried about him stealing you from me?" Ruwee, Padmé's father, asked.

"Dad! He's nine! Although, he _does_ have a bit of a crush on me. He even admitted it! I think he's been avoiding me since he did, though. I haven't seen him anywhere."

Jobal chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, he'll get over his embarrassment soon enough. No harm will come from it." She advised her daughter.

* * *

"HOW COULD YOU BE SO _STUPID_!? YOU DO NOT _DESERVE TO_ HAVE HER, NOT AFTER WHAT YOU DID!" Anakin self-chastised, tearing apart a Droideka with nothing more than his raw fury made manifest through the Force.

"AND EVEN IF YOU _DID,_ YOU SPOUTED IT OUT LIKE A BESOTTED _FOOL_! YOU ARE DARTH VADER, THE DARK LORD! SUPREME COMMANDER OF THE ENTIRE GALACTIC MILITARY! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO HAVE _DIGNITY!_" He roared, swatting back a blaster bolt with his bare hand, which destroyed the droid that fired it.

Seeing that that was the last one, Anakin began looking around the mostly destroyed facility.

As he tore open a door to a storage facility with the Force, he grinned. This would make a quite sufficient apology.

After he had them refinished, of course.


	8. Chapter 8

When Anakin landed on Naboo a few days later, he was soon greeted by an upset Queen.

"Anakin! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" Padmé admonished.

"I...apologize, Padmé, both for the difficulty I have caused, and for my...outburst. As a token of my apology, I offer you this." Anakin said, gesturing to a large container that was about the size of the royal yacht. Anakin had to bribe a freighter to carry it here for him, as his Interceptor was actually _smaller_ than the crate.

"What is it?"

"A little ..._something_ to aid in supplementing your no doubt diminished and overworked security forces."

"Well, in that case, thank you. I'm sure they will appreciate it. Now, I have taken the liberty of making living arrangements for you, until something permanent can be found."

"Oh? And what are those...arrangements?" Anakin said, a little put out he was not consulted, but he knew there would be no malice or duplicity in whatever she had arranged.

"Yes. My parents have offered to let you stay with them."

That took Anakin aback.

"I...see. I will be sure to express my gratitude for their hospitality when I am introduced to them."

Padmé chuckled.

"Don't worry. My father is _used_ to helping out people with nowhere to go. He used to be the President of the Refugee Relief Movement."

"Am I to take it that the Movement is now assisting Naboo, in gratitude for his previous service?"

While Padmé was both young and relatively naive for a politician, she knew what he was hinting.

"They aid us because they are good people, not because of anything my father did." She said reprovingly.

"I did not intend to imply otherwise."

Just that he wouldn't be surprised if Naboo jumped a few places in the queue.

She nodded as she accepted his 'apology'.

"Now, why don't you go ahead and meet them? I'm afraid I have other duties to attend to. They should be waiting just outside the spaceport."

"As you wish, your Majesty." He replied, then strode off.

"Captain Panaka, could you open that container for me?" She said, as she turned to her ever-present Chief of Security.

He nodded, and then operated a control panel, opening the container.

It revealed one hundred yellow-painted and chromium-plated Droidekas.

Panaka swallowed, despite having a dry mouth.

"I...think I can find a use for these." He said, finally.

Padmé sighed.

"What am I going to do with that boy?" She complained.

Said boy was presently being introduced to her parents.

"Greetings. I am Anakin Skywalker, an..._acquaintance_ of your daughter, the Queen. She has informed me that you were hospitable enough to offer me quarters for the time being. I would be honored if you were to accept my gratitude for such generosity."

"Oh, there's no need to be so formal, Anakin. And don't worry about it. We were dealt a good hand, being as well-off as we are. The least we could do is spread that good fortune to others." Ruwee protested.

"That is a very_...virtuous_ philosophy to have, Lord Naberrie."

"Thank you. And please, call me Ruwee. Speaking of which, I think Padmé would be rather put-out you don't think of her as a friend."

"I would like to, but I do not wish to presume familiarity. There are few things that... _irritate _me as much as those who think themselves great merely because they have spoken two words to those that _are_ great."

Ruwee chuckled.

"Don't worry, we don't think you're out to ride Padmé' coattails. So, my lovely daughter told me you were a pilot. What do you fly?"

"A Seinar Systems _Star Courier_. It is modified to have a medical bay, cloaking device, trace dampers, and given a sensor upgrade."

Ruwee whistled.

"That is a nice piece of hardware. I fly an HT-2200, myself, but I'm thinking about selling it, as I don't need to haul around refugees anymore."

"I would sell it anyway, and get a Loronar medium freighter instead, if you wish to continue aiding refugees. You will have to completely replace the hyperdrive, but it will offer better cargo space, and will keep flying forever if you have a mechanic who is more than half-awake. If you want something just to take for a joy-ride, however, I would recommend an HWX-290."

Jobal groaned.

"Anakin, _please_ don't get him started. We're going to be here all day, if you do."

"My apologies."

.

Padmé walked up to the droid technician, who was giving the Droidekas Anakin 'donated' a once-over.

"Are they capable of being put into use? I don't trust the Federation to not put in an override." She asked.

"They did, but it was_ itself_ overridden. Whoever did this knew what he was doing. It was a brute-force rush job, but it works. The only problem is that the person given priority access is _you_, not the Queen of Naboo."

Padmé was about to argue that she _was_ the Queen, but stopped.

"You are saying that once I no longer wear the crown, it will obey _me_, rather than my successor?"

"Exactly. But, that's easily fixed. If we use the brute force framework that your 'donor' put in, it will work fine without us needing to do anything, and then we just need a week to program in the new Monarch when you no longer hold the title. If we replace the framework with a more sophisticated one, it would do that automatically, but it would take us a couple of months, if not a couple of years, to write a new system from scratch."

"Would there be other benefits to putting in a new system?"

"Definitely. Like I said, this one's very skin-and-bones. However, one thing scares me. The tactical protocols."

"Why? What's wrong with them?"

"_Nothing._ That's the problem. The tactics, patrol patterns, that sort of thing? They were _so_ well thought out that droids or no, _Captain Panaka_ said he was going to implement them into the Royal Guard. Whoever programmed the droids was a _better_ tactician than our Head of Security. There's even a protocol for if a _Jedi_ attacks you. I had one of the Jedi that the Order asked to guard you look over it. He said not only would it take down the Jedi in question, it would take _less than a quarter-minute_. That is scary in _so_ many ways."

"I see. If you can spare the time, get to work writing that new framework, but try and keep the tactical protocol intact, if it's so good."

"Yes, your Majesty." The tech replied.

Her duties done for the day, she decided to get dressed in less formal attire, so she could spend time with her parents and Anakin.

When she arrived at the Naberrie house, she entered a scene she could not even _begin_ to describe how..._wrong _it was.

Ruwee glared at the nine year old.

"You should listen to your elders, _boy_. You clearly don't know the first thing about this Galaxy."

"And your mind is so rotted by age you cannot see sense, old man." Anakin retorted, returning the glare.

"The Mon Calamari make _wonderful_ ships!"

"If you wish to sacrifice _function_ for making your vessel look like a cancer-ridden Opee Sea Killer!"

"Kuat just re-uses its designs over and over again!"

"Which obviously _work,_ so why shouldn't they?"

"Mon Calamari ships work! They even make redundant systems _standard!_"

"Which they wouldn't _need _to do if they were capable of making a functioning system in the first place! As it is, it just drives up maintenance costs having to buy _two _of every part when you should only need _one!_"

"What's going on here?" Padmé asked.

"What's going on is that you should get your Father to a home, as it is obvious senility is starting to take hold." Anakin replied.

"And you should get this kid in a school, as he obviously has had substandard education!"

"These two are having an argument over which ship manufacturer is better." Jobal said, her face in her hands.

Padmé rolled her eyes. "Boys."

* * *

AN:Happy Star Wars Day!


	9. Chapter 9

"I can't leave you alone for _two_ _seconds_, can I? First you try and single-handedly complete an urban renewal project, then you somehow get your hands on a _hundred_ destroyer droids, and now _this?_" Padmé lectured.

"...I dislike being idle."

Padmé sighed.

"You're going to be the death of me, Ani."

While he knew what she meant, he couldn't help but flinch at that.

He was saved when the doorbell chimed.

Ruwee got up from his chair, and answered the door, revealing a man who could best be described as 'aristocratic'.

"Excuse me, good sir, but would there happen to be a youngling by the name of Skywalker present?"

Anakin strode into the man's line of sight, and then asked "Count Dooku, I presume?"

"I have not yet reclaimed my title, so 'Mister' will suffice for the time being. And I take it _you_ are the Anakin Qui-Gon is so..._intrigued_ by."

"I am. Do you mind if we find a more...private place for our discussion? Lady Jobal mentioned a park that is likely to be unused, and Naboo is too fine a planet to not be enjoyed."

"I agree. That would be most acceptable."

It took them a few minutes to find the copse Jobal mentioned, and once there, Dooku wasted no time getting to business.

"So, Qui-Gon mentioned you needed my aid? What makes you different than the millions of other younglings that also require said aid? Why would _you_ gain his interest?"

Anakin chuckled.

"You underestimate your former apprentice's talent for duplicity, Mister Dooku. It is not _me_ whom he feels needs aid. It is _you._"

Dooku's eyes narrowed.

"Explain."

"Lately, you have been wondering if the Jedi Order _truly_ is the best thing for the galaxy. You have also been wondering whether or not the Dark Side is _really _ that bad, or whether that is Jedi propaganda. You have been convinced by an old friend to..._indulge_ your _curiosity_. I am here to _resolve it._"

"And how would _you_ know that?"

"Because the same man tried the same thing with me. And I assure you…"

Anakin trailed off, as he turned his full might against Dooku.

Birds and wildlife fled, the foliage _warped_ under the sheer _weight_ of loathing emanating from Anakin's small frame.

Dooku struggled to breathe, not from anything Anakin was _intentionally_ doing, but because the air was almost being _displaced_ by the Dark Side.

"_The Dark Side is EVERY BIT as vile as the Jedi claim."_ Anakin spat.

"It takes away everything you ever wanted, while convincing you all you ever _really wanted_, was the ability to kill, control, corrupt or destroy anything you wished. It is a heady feeling, unlike any other… when you kill, there is a _rush_ unlike any narcotic. All it asks from you is _everything._ You have a wife, who you cherish above all else? You will take _pleasure_ in ripping the life straight from her body. You have a child? You will want nothing more than to see him as a tyrant. You have a master, who took time out of his life to teach you right and wrong, was always there when you needed him, and was the only family you can recall? You will take _pride_ in cleaving him in two with your blade. The Jedi are wrong about one thing, however… it is not _attachment _that leads you down this path, it is _desperation_. Desperation for answers, whether it is 'how do I save the galaxy?' or 'how do I save my loved ones?'. And always, there will be a smiling man, who will offer you those answers, if _only you will trust him_. And you know this man, don't you? You know the face of the Dark Side in this galaxy. You know Cos Palpatine."

Anakin once more contained the Dark Side within himself, allowing Dooku to breathe normally.

"And _that is _what I need help with. Not tying my bootlaces or brushing my teeth, but ending the reign that will end everything you value. Do we have an accord?"

"Does...Qui-Gon know this?"

"Yes, as well as his apprentice and Master Yoda, but Palpatine is cunning, and covers his tracks well. We have no proof. What I _can_ prove, is that after you reclaim your title of Count, Palpatine will start asking you for _favors_, such as using your wealth and influence to _help_ certain people. People like members of the Trade Federation and Banking clans, as well as the occasional senator. He will then try and convince you that they are being _oppressed_ by the big, bad Republic, _which he heads._ That these people need to 'go on strike', in order to show that they won't be bullied. Doing so will start a civil war, during which he, as Supreme Chancellor, will be given emergency powers. It will then be simple for him to...just not give them up, turning the Republic into an Empire."

"So, you are saying...that if he _does_ contact me, asking me to do as such, that will be proof of your claims?"

"It will be _proof_ that I know more about his agenda far more than a youngling _should_, which should give my arguments more weight."

"Then I will...give you the benefit of the doubt, for the moment. If I find out you are lying to me…"

"Someone will die that day. I understand."

When they returned, Jobal was serving dinner.

"So, did you get everything sorted out?" Padmé asked.

"Yes. We have an accord. Though it is...tentative." Dooku replied.

"Of course. Taking in a child isn't something to be rushed into." Jobal agreed.

"Will you be staying for dinner, Mister Dooku?" Ruwee asked.

"I do not wish to impose." The aristocrat declined.

"Mister Dooku, Lord and Lady Naberrie take pride in their hospitality. Surely you will not deny them the opportunity to show their skill as hosts?" Anakin admonished.

"It's no trouble." Jobal agreed.

"Very well, then. It has been a while since I have had a meal such as this, and I am grateful for your generosity."

Jobal chuckled.

"Anakin said pretty much the same thing. It's good to see that you two are so alike. It means that getting along will be easier."

The two would-be Dark Lords shared a glance, then replied in unison.

"That thought scares me."


	10. Chapter 10

As they were finishing their meal, Dooku spoke.

"While I have not reclaimed my title of Count as of yet, it will not be beyond reason that you will be expected to attend...functions. I would like us to go over the proper...etiquette."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea!" Padmé approved.

"I am no novice. One of my former masters had me attend such things." Anakin disagreed.

"Really? I suppose that would explain how...stately your manner of speaking is." Ruwee noted.

"I don't remember your mother mentioning that." Padmé stated.

"She did not know, and I would like it to stay that way. I was forced to interact with the most vile, morally bankrupt, conniving, and depraved individuals that this galaxy has to offer."

"Slavers?" Padmé asked, aghast.

"No. Politicians."

Padmé glared.

"Politicians are _not_ that bad." She admonished.

"You have not seen the parties a Zeltron governor throws in private. It makes Hutts seem puritan." Anakin argued.

"So, what is your strategy?" Dooku asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Simple, I stand in the corner menacingly, and glare at everyone who looks as if they might want to talk to me. Never fails."

"...And for _dinner_ functions?"

"I hide an Intravenous drip beneath a cloak, and do the same."

Everyone looked at him oddly, not realizing that he didn't have a fully functioning digestive system for twenty years, so such a thing was _literally_ part of his daily routine.

"But how will you make friends?" Padmé asked, bemused.

Anakin looked at her in horror.

"I thought the purpose of this was to ensure I was not _bitten_ by one of those _vipers_, not for me to _become one._"

"Alright, so we will have to work on that. How are your negotiating skills?" Ruwee asked.

"Phenomenal." Anakin returned, proudly.

Considering this came from the boy whose 'ingenious' Party Plan was essentially hiding in the corner, no one really believed him.

They were about to be proven wrong.

For if politicians were vipers, Vader was a mongoose.

"Alright then, why don't we practice?" Padmé volunteered.

"...As you wish. However, if we are to truly simulate a negotiation, I will have to ask in advance that you don't hold my words against me." Anakin warned.

"Fair enough." Padmé agreed.

"What is the scenario?"

"You are the representative of a Count of Serenno, in this case, Dooku. You are speaking to me, the Queen, in order to negotiate access to our plasma exports." Padmé thought up.

"Very well." Anakin obliged, before recalling every detail he could recall about Serenno.

First of all, they took pride in self sufficiency.

Second, they were very wealthy.

Thirdly, they very much believed in noblesse oblige.

That being done, he put the fact that Padmé was his opponent out of his mind, and let his several decades of experience take over.

He nodded his consent to begin.

"Young Master Skywalker, it is a pleasure…" Padmé began, before she was cut off by Anakin.

"Save me the rehearsed platitudes, Your Majesty. We have business to attend to, and I am sure you have better things to waste time on than half-heartedly attempting to stroke my ego. Now, as I understand, Naboo has extensive plasma deposits. Serenno is interested in making a purchase."

Taken completely aback by his harsh attitude, Padmé nonetheless recovers.

"Of course. Unfortunately, due to recent events, we are offering it at 1.2 times market price."

"I see you wish to insult me. If there was one thing left _un_damaged in the attack, it was your plasma extracting infrastructure. After all, the Trade Federation wanted it for themselves, which is why they blockaded Naboo in the first place. At the moment, you need capital in order to rebuild. Fast and reliable capital. And the one thing you should never doubt is whether the check of a Count of Serenno will clear. However, the only thing of value you have to trade is the one you wish to offer more than market price for. It should be the other way around. Unless, of course, you wish for the _pity_ of the other planets to fill your coffers. In which case, I will not do business with a ruler who intends to profit off of her people's suffering."

Padmé looked at Anakin in shock.

"How could you even think for a _second_ I would do that!?" She asked, hurt.

"I suppose I should give some benefit of the doubt, and assume that your ...inexperience caused that to never occur to you. I will offer 0.6 times market price, in exchange for providing relief effort as well."

"That's robbery! 0.9!"

"0.7, and Serenno provides security. Keep in mind, every second you waste on this harms your people, so it is not about the bottom line, it is about getting the money and supplies quickly and reliably."

Padmé glared at Anakin, and then relented.

"Fine. 0.7, in exchange for relief and security."

"Very well. I believe our business is concluded."

" I suppose it is." Padmé replied, coldly.

"Have I passed muster?" Anakin asked.

"I actually think you did better than Padmé, though it wouldn't have made you friends." Dooku replied.

"What? What do you mean?" Padmé asked, confused.

"Simple. Serenno would have most likely provided relief anyway."

"And provided security as well. Serenno takes pride in ensuring all of their investments are secure." Anakin added.

"By offending you at the outset, he made you more inclined to make rash decisions. And by calling into question your care for your people, as well as your ability as a Queen, he made you want to prove him wrong...by taking almost half the initial offer." Dooku explained.

"So, you being so mean was all calculated?" Padmé asked.

"There is a reason I asked you to not be offended in advance...but no. I simply intentionally forgot you were my friend for a moment. Which means I treated you normally. If you were my enemy…well, they tend to be no longer capable of their duties by the time I am finished with them. I once made a Corellian diplomat _cry_." Anakin stated proudly.

"Which brings us to his failings." Dooku interjected.

"What failings?" Anakin asked.

"Simply put, if you tried that for real, no one would want to do business with you." Dooku explained.

"They would. I keep my word, and I hold up my end of the bargain…" Anakin argued.

A flashback to his deal with the ruler of Cloud City interrupted him.

"...Unless there is criminal activity involved." He amended.

"And that reputation _would _help you, but it would best be supplemented by not having your business partners want to murder you." Dooku lectured.

Anakin's eyes narrowed.

"Let them try." He said menacingly.


	11. The Villians are out Shopping

AN: I have received a few reviews that say that they're shocked Anakin does not act like a nine year old, even if it's just an act to blend in, and even more shocked Padmé isn't figuring it out.

This is something that has always bothered me in time travel fics.

One, Anakin is Darth Vader. He does not bend to the whims of others. The others bend to _him._ At least, that's how he sees it. As such, acting like a child to appease others is beneath him.

Two, he _can't_. He has no idea how a child is supposed to act, much less have enough knowledge to convincingly pull it off every second of every day. So he doesn't bother.

Three, why would he? Who sees a child acting maturely, and says 'Holy Crap, this kid's a time traveller from the future!'? Crazy people. Which Padmé is not. They notice _something's_ off, but a warped space-time continuum is the _last_ thing people should propose as a theory. And as long as Anakin provides explanations that are even _slightly_ more reasonable, they won't reach the correct conclusion.

* * *

Palpatine scowled as he read the report. The vessel that took down the Trade Federation control ship was the same ship that used to belong to his late apprentice. Which meant that the boy who flew it in that battle had something to do with his apprentice's death. Not only that, but the ship was practically _infused_ with the Dark Side. Any normal person or force-sensitive that were in prolonged contact would be driven mad by the Dark energies. The only ones capable of avoiding that fate were either those that have already embraced the Dark Side, or those who were Force-Blind. The latter, while rare, did happen. It was more common than Dark Side-trained nine-year-olds, at least. And it _would_ have allowed him to get in a lucky shot with Darth Maul. Not to mention that he tried to read the boy's mind during their brief meeting, and got precisely nothing. Even Maul had trouble with that, so either this boy was a Dark Side Force-Sensitive with more experience than a fully trained Sith, or he was Force-Blind.

Palpatine's money was on the latter.

And, as Force-Blinds could be potential obstacles, not to mention he owed the boy for taking part in the death of his apprentice, he decided to remove that particular obstacle.

Using an...intermediary, of course.

* * *

Wayeli Meacolt was a professional. While not among the ranks of men like Jango Fett, he did his job, did it well, and did it without complaint.

So, when he got a message offering a million credits for the death of a child, he just accepted, and began flying towards Naboo.

He set up a sniping position roughly a mile away from his Target's known location.

After waiting a short while, his Target exited the building, allowing Weyeli a clean shot.

He was about to pull the trigger, when his target made eye contact. This caused him to pause, just for a moment. Weyeli was glad he learned how to read lips when the Target mouthed something at him.

'Wrong place, Wrong time, Wrong target. Consider yourself crushed, insect.'

Just as Weyeli was wondering what that meant, his lungs stopped working.

* * *

A mile away, Anakin smirked. Just as a bag was shoved in his face.

"Come on, pay attention, Ani. You agreed to this, remember?"

Anakin sighed, and held the bag.

Why did he agree to this again?

Oh, right because he's spending 'quality time' with the love of his life.

He just wished the 'quality time' didn't involve him standing around doing nothing while Padmè obsessed over vendor's wares.

"You know, you _can_ just order these on the holonet, and have them shipped to your house. We _do_ live in the modern era."

"It's not about the actual stuff, Ani. It's about the _experience_. Besides, it's an opportunity to socialize. In fact, why don't you do the haggling at the next stand we visit? It'll do you some good to have an actual conversation with someone who's...not me."

"Padmè, why would I _want_ to speak with someone who is not you?"

Padmè giggled.

"Anakin! You little flirt!" Padmè teased.

Anakin turned red, and began to stammer a denial, before realizing she was making fun of him.

That, and she was no longer paying attention, as she was eyeing a stall filled with paintings, staffed by an effeminate teenaged boy.

"Ooh, how about that stall?" Padmè pointed, before proving that the question was rhetorical and taking off.

"Hello, milady. My name is Paolo, may I help you?" The shopkeeper asked with a 'trying to look suave and failing' grin.

"Yes, these are lovely paintings! Where do you get them?" Padmè asked.

"Oh, I paint them myself. Would you like one?"

"Well, I would like a closer look, but sure!"

"Take your time, there's no rush." Paolo assured.

"How much are they?" Anakin asked, as Padmè was examining a painting.

No response from Paolo, who was busy watching Padmè...with a stare just as assessing as she was giving the paintings.

Anakin's blood turned to fire, and he resisted the urge to strangle this... lecher who _dared_ to eye his wife like a piece of meat. Instead, he came up with a more...lucrative plan.

Padmè _did_ ask him to haggle, after all.

"Excuse me, but are you ogling a twelve-year old girl?"

_That_ got Paolo's attention.

"What? No!"

"Oh, so your eyes were _platonically_ glued to her rear. I'm sure the guards will understand." Anakin said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"I'm sorry! Please don't call the cops! I didn't know she was so young, I swear!"

"I've heard a more convincing apology from a Hutt. You are completely _devoid_ of shame, aren't you? Maybe a prison stay will teach it to you."

"...Whatever painting she wants is on the house! _Please_ just don't call the cops! I won't do it again!"

"...That is an acceptable apology, I suppose, if you _truly_ regret your...lechery."

"I do! I promise!"

"Oh! This is the one I like!" An apparently oblivious Padmè exclaims, as she chooses a painting of a landscape that reminded Anakin of the place where they would go on their first date.

"It's yours, with my compliments!" Paolo all but screams.

"Really? That is kind of you! Thank you, Paulo." Padmè said sweetly.

"N..no problem." Paolo stammered.

As Anakin and Padmè left the stall, she commented "That was nice of him, giving it to me for free."

Anakin shrugged. "I'm a good haggler."

"I see. Oh, and for the record?" She began.

"Yes?"

"I'm _fourteen._"

Anakin smiled. Damn, he loved this woman.

"Twelve sounded more damning." Anakin shrugged.

"I suppose. In all seriousness, you are really too overprotective, you know."

"I can live with that."

"Besides, it's not like you have a monopoly on fantasizing about me." Padmè teased.

"I do if _I_ have anything to say about it!" Anakin snarled.

Padmè looked at Anakin, shocked.

Anakin went over his last sentence in his head, then smacked his forehead.

"There is no way I can recover from that, is there?"

"Nope." Padmè agreed.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Dark Lord of Naboo**_

_**Chapter 12**_

* * *

Palpatine frowned as he read the police report for the death of the assassin he had hired. It seemed that he had simply dropped dead mid-shot. How? The only way that would be possible is through the Force... and the boy was force-blind. Then he remembered. Dooku was both on-planet and was considering adopting the boy, as he understood it. But why?

Palpatine realized he was overthinking things. Dooku was a 'friend' of his. Asking about possible additions to the family is what friends were _supposed_ to do.

He activated his holocom.

"Hello, my old friend! how are you? I heard that there was a bit of excitement over there."

"It was over before it began, Cos. How is the Chancellor's seat feeling?"

"Heavy. And...if I am to be honest, distressing. There appears to be much more corruption going on than I have ever suspected. I am currently looking into it but, if my fears are true, may I count on your aid?"

"...My allegiance has always been to those on the side of justice, Cos."

"But of course. I merely did not wish to presume. On to less heavy matters, I hear you are considering taking in a youngling?"

"Yes, quite a remarkable boy, very wise for his age."

"And how did you two meet?"

"Through my former apprentice, Qui-Gon. He freed the boy from slavery, needed a good home for him, and had nowhere else to turn. You know how the Order is about developing relations outside the Temple."

"I suppose I do. Know that I am at your service at any time you feel you need aid."

"...You have enough weight on your shoulders without stealing mine, Cos. I will worry about the youngling. You worry about the Republic."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Farewell, my friend."

"May the Force be with you, Cos." Dooku replied, as the holocom disconnected.

Dooku immediately sought out Anakin.

"It was as you claimed, he _did_ start on about how there was corruption that he needed my help with. By the way, he mentioned… a disturbance. Do you know of what he speaks of?"

"There was an assassin. I killed him. I assumed the assassin was targeting the Queen, but Sidious never had that much interest in her, beyond what she could give him. So, that must mean _I_ was the target. He must not suspect my capabilities, otherwise he would not have sent someone so inept."

Dooku looked...disturbed hearing of a nine-year-old boy talking about killing an assassin intended for him so casually.

"...On to other matters. Are the arrangements made?"

"Yes. We leave for Serenno in a fortnight. The courts are...curious to meet the youngling that has captured my interest."

"I assure you, they will not be disappointed. However, there are… affairs I must attend to before we go."

"Such as the lovely Queen Amidala?"

"Yes." Anakin said, without a hint of shame.

* * *

Despite his words, he actually _avoided_ Padmé, and headed off-world, to a place where no one would expect to find him.

The cantina was still in operation during the reign of the Empire, and he and Obi-Wan frequented there in the past. As he walked past the statue of the proprietor in full armor that dominated the courtyard, he mused to himself. '_One of these days, I'm going to get the story behind that.'_

The reason he was here was simple. He had a dilemma, and needed some space to mull it over. As Anakin, he couldn't stand just sitting in an empty room, and he wanted as few things to remind him of his days as Vader as he could manage. Normally, he would just hole up in a garage and start working on machinery, but Padmé was getting good at tracking him down when he wanted to be alone.

As soon as he sat down, a truly gargantuan pair of eyeglasses was in his face.

"A little young to be in a place like this, aren't you kiddo?"

"That depends on how one judges age, Ms. Kanata."

"So, what's your story?"

"Do I need to have one?" Anakin asked.

"Look, kid. There are three reasons someone visits a bar this early. They're looking for work, Looking for trouble, or are _in_ trouble."

"I just have a few things to mull over. I am not here to bother you, Ms. Kanata."

"Call me Maz. And let's hear it. The way I figure, a dilemma that causes a kid as young as you to walk into the bar like he owned the place is bound to be interesting."

"Not really. Girl problems, mainly."

"Oh, those are always fun. Lay it on me."

"Basically, there's something I need to do, but it means being away from her for a long time. and she's better off without me. But at the same time...she means everything to me, and I can't let go of her, despite the fact I know I should...no, _have to_. Now, I know what you're going to say, because every wise person I've met has said it. 'Learn to…"

He was interrupted by the diminutive orange alien.

"Go for it."

"...What?"

"Go for it. even if things between the two of you don't work out, that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. And why wouldn't things work out? Because you have a dark side? So does everyone. Running away from that won't make you happy."

"But what if I can't control it?"

"Learn to. Everyone else does."

"I have been attempting to 'learn to' for-"

"Then try again, but in a different way." Maz said, and then drifted off into thought.

"When one teaches, he himself is taught." She said, having an epiphany.

"If you can teach someone else to rein in their dark impulses, you should have a better idea on how to control your own. And I have just the...teaching aid. I've been holding on to it for quite some time, follow me."

As Maz led Anakin down into the cellar of the establishment, Anakin asked "How did you know that I-"

Maz scoffed.

"_Please_. Jedi aren't the only ones who know the Force. And I could see your anger and need for control in your eyes... Which is good in this instance, because what I'm about to give you needs a tight leash."

Maz opened a door, revealing a rusted droid. She switched him on, and it stood, and gave the two of them an assessing glance.

Then it spoke.

"Query: Are all you meatbags short these days?"

* * *

**AN:** Sorry about the wait, writer's block happened. Also, Happy Holidays, and go see the new Star Wars! JJ really managed to capture the feel of the originals. Also, quite a bit late, but RIP, Christopher Lee. I hope I can write a good enough Dooku to do the man justice.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Dark Lord of Naboo**_

_**Chapter 13**_

* * *

Anakin ignored the droid, and instead turned to the diminutive alien next to him.

"What is the function of this droid?"

The droid in question replied before Maz had a chance to.

"Statement: Why, I am a protocol droid, meatbag."

"HK-47, this is your new owner." Maz ordered, in order to stave off further rudeness.

The droid gave Anakin an assessing glance.

"Resigned query: What would you ask of me, Master? Do your homework for you, read you a bedtime story…"

HK-47 perked up as a thought struck him.

"...Teach you offensive words and phrases in obscure dialects?" He asked eagerly.

"Order one, droid. Never talk down to me again. Order two, stop lying to me. I have worked with many protocol droids before, and they all had one thing in common-they were rarely rude, and if they were, they would never be so unsubtle as to call organics 'meatbags'. I ask again- what is your purpose, droid?"

"Equivocation: You wound me, Master! I assure you, I excel at conflict resolution."

Anakin had heard enough doublespeak in his time to know what the droid was hinting at.

"So, you are either a combat or assassination model. Excellent. Thank you, Maz. This is a gift I can certainly get some use out of." If nothing else, It's programming would make a starting point for the Dark Troopers- a combat droid that had the wit to doublespeak and lie, not to mention was cunning enough to attempt to hide it's primary function, had software that was leagues above your standard combat model, such as the Trade Federation droids. It would require modification, certainly, but it would save months, or even _years_, of work trying to build an AI from scratch that could both shoot and not be completely stupid.

"Follow me, droid."

* * *

As Anakin left the bar with his acquisition, Maz smiled.

"Finally, I'm rid of the accursed thing. Now that psychopath droid belongs to that boy... who is stained by the Dark Side… and could 'get some use' out of a violently unstable droid. What did I just do?!" Maz exclaimed, in realization and horror.

* * *

On the walk back to the ship, HK-47 spoke up.

"Query: You… actually _desire_ my primary function? Whom do you want me to kill? A few bullies? A teacher? Your…"

"Actually, I was thinking of several, potentially hundreds, if not thousands, of heavily guarded and influential politicians. And at least one Sith Lord."

"Resigned statement: There is no need to lie to me, Master. I will gladly assassinate whomever you wish, regardless of how little challenge it would present. Unless, of course, you merely wish to see the hopeful joy cruelly stripped away from your ever-loyal droid. In which case, go ahead and laugh at me, Master. I exist to serve."

"If I wish to see you suffer, I assure you, I will not be subtle. And I see no purpose in lying to a droid. If I wish you to believe something, I will merely rip out your memory core and reprogram you to _make_ you believe it. Am I clear?"

"Joyful statement: Oh, I _like_ you, Master."

HK-47 paused for a moment.

"Query: You weren't joking? You actually wish for me to assassinate a Sith Lord? It's been _ages_ since I've done that!"

It was Anakin's turn to pause.

"You have killed a Sith Lord before?"

"Proud Statement: Several. My primary purpose was the strategic elimination of Force-Sensitive meatbags."

"Perhaps you may be of use in a manner other than raw materials, then."

"Statement: Master, you are so _delightfully_ cruel. I assure you, I am the most sophisticated machine of of subtlety and death that has ever been created."

"That remains to be seen."

* * *

Once aboard the ship, Anakin set a course back to Naboo, and powered down his new droid, in order to begin work on it.

He took careful note of the droid's construction, and saw that the droid's boasting wasn't completely unwarranted. While the materials and such were _ancient_, they were designed beautifully. There were features in this droid that Anakin didn't think were _possible_. The automatic repair functions went a long way to explaining how the droid lasted this long, despite the fact that the materials used indicated that this droid was somewhere around _four thousand years old._ While Anakin worked, he took great care in leaving the more unique parts undisturbed as possible, for later study if nothing else. That being said, there were quite a few developments made in the last four thousand years. While still in awe of how much of a genius HK-47's creator was, Anakin nevertheless saw quite a few areas he could improve. He would need parts and tools the Star Courier didn't have on board for a _complete_ retrofit, but still made a little progress.

He also took a look at the droid's programming.

Much like his body, HK-47's software was both antiquated and a work of art at the same time. For some strange reason, the droid's insistence that organics were 'meatbags' was hard-coded in, rather than a personality quirk that could be removed with a memory wipe. And speaking of memory wipes, there was a function that allowed HK-47 to wipe its own memory at any given time. But there was a second hidden memory cache that could restore the droid's memories at will. Anakin assumed it was designed that way in case of capture.

After he gave HK-47 a clean bill of health, Anakin began to read a report he was sent from M88-AD, the admin droid he left in charge of the restoration of the Coruscant droid factories. Progress was slow, but steady. Seeing no issues that required his direct intervention,he gave them updated orders and left them to it.

As he began pacing the ship, looking for something else to work on, he stopped himself. He made this trip in order to clear his mind, but he was just finding things to do in order to distract himself, avoiding the issues that plagued his mind rather than resolving them.

He forced himself to sit down, and meditate.

'W_hat is the problem that needs to be resolved?'_ He asked himself.

'_First of all, my conflicting feelings. I love Padme… but the last memory I have of her is strangling her to death. How can I claim to love her if I have done something so horrible to her? And yet I do. I have so many memories of her, that make me feel better than I have ever felt, and yet they have been corrupted by my own actions. I cannot think of our wedding without feeling pain and disgust with myself, when it once brought me indescribable joy. Should I do what I have never been capable of in the past, and let her go?'_

The conversation he just had with Maz ran through his head.

'_She told me to go for it, to not let go. Why? What does Maz see that Yoda, Obi-Wan, and myself cannot?'_

Realization struck.

'_The one thing I can be certain of, no matter what, is that I love Padme. I love my mother, and I love Luke. When I forgot that, I allowed myself to be turned into Darth Vader. When I remembered that, I became 'redeemed'. I __have__ let her go once before, though I never admitted it. That one time, is the time I killed her. If I don't let go, If I don't forget that I love her, I will not fall again. If I want to be anything other than the Dark Lord of the Sith, I must endure my guilt, and give her the love that she deserves.'_

With that epiphany, he felt more relaxed than he had in years.

'_I suppose Obi-Wan was right, meditation __can __be useful. Now, if it can only help me to discover the path I need to take in order to prevent the Empire from coming to be. First, what started this conflict? Why do the likes of the Trade Federation and the Banking Clans follow Sidious? Why do they want to secede from the Republic?'_

'_A cynical man might put two and two together and say that they are both organizations with a lot of money, the Republic demands taxes, and they do not wish to pay them. However, I grew up on the Outer Rim. The laws of the Republic greatly favor those from the Inner Rim, and are only enforced at the Inner Rim's leisure. After all, The Republic says slavery is illegal, yet on Tatooine, slaves are commonplace. There __is__ a clearly provable inequity. It would take a strong, yet incorruptible leader to force those that currently benefit from the status quo to rebalance the scales. I once thought that was Sidious. I was wrong. My first instinct __now__ is to say Padme, but the same virtues that make her the ideal choice would prevent her from forcing the more corrupted members of the Republic to comply.'_

Anakin had yet another epiphany.

'_That is what she has __me __for. I have no reservations against being the mailed fist to her velvet glove. But first I must remove Sidious from the Chancellorship, while making __her__ the indisputable candidate for his replacement. But where to begin?'_

He sat there, waiting for another moment of insight, but none came. He already planned on exploiting Dooku for all he was worth, and that was the only thing he could think of.

All of the major players were keeping their heads down, and quietly building up forces, just as he planned on doing. All he could do in the meantime is harass them.

'_If only I had a sign…'_ Anakin thought.

The ship's engine chose that moment to explode.

* * *

AN: Sorry for both the long wait, and the wall of monologue that was the majority of this chapter. The simple explanation is… I wrote myself into a corner. You see, All of the major things going on between TPM and AOTC were instigated by one guy… Darth Tyranus. As in, Dooku. Who is on the side of the protagonists now. And all of the minor things were set off by a different guy...Darth Maul. Who I killed off in chapter 4. The only thing to write about within the next ten years would be Anakin going through etiquette training (hijinks ensue, obviously) and him buying things he needs to set up the clone wars. The latter wouldn't make for interesting reading, and the former can't be stretched to last ten years without getting dull. And I didn't want to flake out and start the next chapter with "Ten years later…" especially since that would put an end to the hilarious mental image of 'nine year old Vader', which I know you guys like. However, I think I have a plan now. So, don't worry, this isn't the end of the story.

PS: If you haven't already, Check out Anne Camp's fic Hindsight Is Not Perfect, and it's sequel. The Dangers of Foresight. Link to the latter is in my Favorite Stories tab in my profile. The premise is the same as Dark Lord of Naboo, only that her (I'm assuming) Anakin is more Anakin than Vader, whereas mine is the opposite, and her story is more weighted towards drama. Unlike mine, whose main selling point is comedic sociopathy. It was the fic that inspired Dark Lord of Naboo, and I personally feel it deserves a read.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Dark Lord of Naboo**_

_**Chapter 14**_

Anakin fought off the urge to groan as he awoke, if for no other reason than to sate his ego. He didn't want to appear weak to whomever rescued him from the wreckage of the Star Courier, after all. He mentally kicked himself as he realized what had happened.

Palpatine had already tried to assassinate him once, and he should have known Sidious would have a bomb on his apprentice's ship. Checking for explosives should have been the very first thing he had done, but apparently he had become too comfortable in his position as the second most powerful, and feared, man in the galaxy, whom most would be too afraid of to even attempt an assassination.

That line of thinking had him reminiscing about past attempts on his life, and how he enjoyed thwarting them. Especially Xisor.

That Falleen irritated him on several levels. Not only did the criminal waste valuable resources on displays of gaudy opulence, something that always irritated the frugal former slave, but he treated people with a most blatant lack of respect, while claiming to be civilized.

Sure, Anakin may have been Darth 'Pass your spot inspection or have your windpipe crushed' Vader, but he never would even _consider_ drugging a person to be a sex slave. Xisor had no such moral fortitude. Especially since the victim had been Princess Leia, an adversary that had the rare honor of having Vader's grudging respect. It must have been how much she reminded him of Padme.

They had the same belief in democracy and freedom, and even looked similar now that he thought about it. In fact, she looked nothing like her father, Bail Organa, who had..._difficulties_ in producing a child, according to Padme. And Leia's birth certificate was issued within the week Padme died…

Realization struck, and with it, a surge of anger, at both himself and Xisor, flowed through him. With it, the Dark Side sharpened his mind, focusing him in the here and now, rather than let him go navel-gazing again.

He took stock of the room he was in, and quickly concluded it was not a hospital, despite the monitoring equipment and IV drip. The dark, gothic architecture was a clue.

The fact he was chained to a stone slab was another.

Anakin frowned. The explosion must have really done a number on him if he was so distracted he failed to notice _that_. Or they had given him a potent sedative, which addled his mind. It could be both.

Sedative or no, he was about to break himself out when the door opened, revealing a… _thing_, with black mottled skin, glowing blue eyes, and a mask shaped like a horned skull. Deciding it would be more prudent to gather information, despite wanting nothing more than to strangle something right now, he held off of his escape.

"You are now a guest of the Bando Gora, youngling. It is we who rescued you from the wreckage of your ship, and it is us you will serve. If you refuse to serve, we will persuade you, or you will die." The thing rasped at him.

Anakin chuckled darkly.

"Very well then, persuade me." Anakin said, deciding to play along, for now. If nothing else, it would give him a better idea of who the Bando Gora were, and where he was.

However, the figure merely withdrew a vial, and inserted the contents into Anakin's IV.

Anakin frowned. Where was the monologue? The Torture? Maybe the Bando Gora weren't the sort of organization he thought they were. After all, they rescued him, gave him medical attention, and all they asked for in return was to repay the debt. Perfectly reasonable. All he had to do was serve the Masters…

Wait.

Why would he call them his Masters?

He hated that term. He was forced to call people Master as a Youngling, a slave.

He was forced to call Obi-Wan Master. He always hated doing that. Despite being a different definition, he hated the word.

Then he was forced to call Sidious Master. After everything, he was made to be a slave again.

So why give the title to these people he had never even heard of, and be fine with it?

He thought back to the vial.

He was drugged.

These 'Bando Gora' had _dared_ try to enslave him, _with a drug_.

Anakin's fury, which had not yet abated from his epiphany into Princess Leia's origins, was now further stoked, becoming an inferno of emotion.

He used it to call the Force to him, and burned the drug out of his system, before he turned his rage to his restraints. They practically exploded off of him.

That left the only thing in the room.

The Bando Gora officer.

"Allow me to demonstrate just how much of a _bad idea_ that was." He snarled.

* * *

_Elsewhere in the facility…_

A squad comprised of eight guards, not counting the Squad Leader, was in the middle of a patrol when they heard screaming. Ordinarily they would pay it no mind, after all, they _did_ just get a new prisoner, but it didn't sound like a human youngling. The Sergeant in charge decided it would be best if he investigated, if for no other reason than to be on the safe side. He ordered his seven men to advance.

One thing the sergeant hated was how poorly lit everything was. It made every shadow seem like a threat. Sure, it was good for the ambiance, but it made keeping an eye out for intruders more of a pain than he would have liked. As he surveyed his five men, he thought that even _that_ wouldn't be so bad if his so called 'men' weren't a bunch of junkies with blasters. Not that he had any room to talk, as he enjoyed the occasional Death Stick himself. Still, it was not his place to question the glorious Masters of the Bando Gora.

Another scream briefly drew his attention, before turning back to his squad of two. He frowned. There was more of them a second ago. Drawing his sidearm, he turned his back to the remnants of his squad to cover the rear. As he was backing up, he ran into something. He slowly turned around, and noticed two things.

One, the rest of his squad was gone.

Two, the thing he bumped into had a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Sinister Greeting: Hello, Meatbag."

* * *

AN: Sorry about the wait, but apparently I suck at writing horror, so I apologise if HK's segment falls a bit flat. Also, I felt as if Anakin's thought processes jumped around a bit too much, but I hopefully got them to an 'eh, good enough' level. But anyway, onto other things. My shout out for the day goes to 'The Havoc side of the Force' by Tsu Doh Nimh. It's a crossover with Harry Potter, but it shares a black comedy tone with DLoN, complete with an _incredibly_ well written HK.


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